


passenger seat

by basketoflightning



Series: one day we will be whole [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, but i need more, might be a series, that ending killed me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:04:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5040577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basketoflightning/pseuds/basketoflightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-ending drabble. eleven out of ten doctors recommend a healthy dose of pricefield.</p>
            </blockquote>





	passenger seat

if you’d asked her about her favourite feeling in the world before all of this, max caulfield might have told you something completely different.

maybe a few weeks ago, it would have been the thrill of taking a shot. the weight of the camera in her hands, the way her heart skipped as she looked down the lens, the butterflies that she could almost trace upon her stomach as she waited - there really was nothing like it. and even now, it wasn’t like max felt any differently. it was the world that had changed. life was strange that way, max supposed.

when they were younger, the photography had started out as a way to make chloe smile.

“it’s as if you’ve just, like, sucked out all our memories,” chloe had said back then. “so we can keep them forever.”

max didn’t even really need her camera to remember the way chloe had smiled so widely that she’d even forgotten to be self-conscious about the two giant gaps in her ten-year-old teeth. naturally, she’d taken the shot anyway. she always did.

and perhaps if you’d asked max only days ago, her answer would have morphed again. photography would always be her passion, of course, but it was hard to argue with the way something lit up inside of max whenever chloe - always chloe, always - gasped at some new power they’d found. together. late at night, it was that same feeling that had kept max up wondering and wondering, her head a carousel upon her flattened pillow. some people might be surprised, but it was was never really the time travel keeping max wide awake. but then, those people had probably never met chloe price.

chloe is here now. and not just here here, but here in every sense max has ever thought to hope for. and it could be a reflection of the light, max supposes, but meeting chloe's eyes makes her feel that maybe it's even the sense they’d both been hoping for all along. chloe is in the driver’s seat - her driver’s seat, really, and that means she is at last in control - and her face is drooping as if every hour of driving weighs upon it. her blue nail polish is chipped, but it isn’t broken. her hair is wild and sticking up at odd ends, but max thinks she likes it that way. she’s chloe, and that is what matters. 

“max,” chloe says then. there is no pet name today, but her voice is soft. “something up?”

there is a lot max wants to say to chloe; there always is, or so it feels like. there is hope upon max’s tongue: road trips, and their lives, and the fact both of them are together (for good this time, she swears it.) and there is an arsenal too: arcadia bay, and everything they’ve ever known, and everything they have ever cost each other. there are promises to be said, but there are also dreams and fights and questions and plans and heartbreak. in the end, that’s probably what you call a lifetime.

“no,” max replies firmly, because a lifetime is what they will have. “i’m good, chloe.”

and as long as they are here - here together - it is maybe even true. because, max thinks, the greatest feeling in the world has always been riding shotgun with chloe price.


End file.
